4729

A pair of cold, grey eyes stared at the ceiling of the small cell. Orphan number 4729 bit her lip until she tasted blood.

“It doesn't do to dwell on it youngling.” A voice said from the cell next to hers, she looked up twisting her neck to see an old man sat on his simple wooden bed. His elbows rested on his knees his fingers curled around the handle of a walking cane. His bright eyes watched her carefully.

“Dwell on what?” she growled.

“Sentencing.” The old man said smiling, not at all fazed by her defensive tone.

“I'm not.” She said staring back at the ceiling.

“How old are you?” the old man asked she pulled a face and a third prisoner in the other cell snorted in his sleep.

“That’s a bit rude.” She frowned.

“I'm a bit rude.” He said 4729 couldn’t help the small smile.

“I'm fifteen next week.”

“Fifteen” the man smiled feigning surprise. “I'm almost nine hundred.” 4729 was surprised, she sat up running her hand over her short hair.

“You’re joking?” she said he shook his grey head slowly.

“No” he said then he looked at the board that faced the three cells. “I assume your name is up there?” she looked up and saw her numbers hiding the sigh quickly.

“Yes” she said.

“Ah, but which one are you?” the man asked smiling.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Well,” he said “the last time I was here the person I asked chose my name, so I make a point of asking now.”

“They lied?” the man nodded. “Indeed.” He said “so which are you?” 4729 looked back at the board there were two other names, Sebastian and Solom.

“Isn’t it obvious?” she asked.

“Not to me” he said “as much as you speak and are just close enough for me to see you, my eyesight is poor and you are an awkward age.”

“Huh?”

“I cannot tell what sex you are” the man shrugged 4729 looked at him to see he was being honest.

“Then I can be whatever I want,” she grinned then she looked back at the board not hiding the sigh this time. “I'm 4729”

“And I'm Solom” the man smiled looking up as the door to the prison room opened.

“Sentencing” a voice said, a tall angel stepped into the room holding the door open. “His highness, Gabriel Black-Lightning.” He bowed his head slightly as a slightly smaller angel walked in 4729 swallowed as his cold blue eyes caught her own. His wings were hidden beneath an immaculate black uniform. “Number 4729, highness.” the prison warder said the Prince looked at her and she would swear that his gaze softened for a moment and then he turned and looked at the other inmate.

“Him first.” His sharp voice made 4729 shiver and she shifted on the bed as the guard hit the bars of the other cell with a truncheon he carried at his waist.

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